Christmas Roulette
by Envy the Broken
Summary: Ivan is sick and tired of life, but he just can't end it even when he tries. In his most valnurable moment, Alfred shows up out of the blue. Warnings for human names, Yaoi, dark themes, attempts of suicide and possible lemons
1. Russian Roulette

Most people are afraid of death. The fear of the unknown and losing what you have. It doesn't sound pleasant at all. Russia was even scared of it for a long time. His whole life he had been afraid to die. Now was different. Now he embraced, now he hated life, and he hated his past. Russia has tried every day since he began his hatred for himself to end his life. It never works.

Ivan, as a person, can't kill himself. He's tried so many times, but he just keeps coming back. Ivan's not even as old as some of the countries, and he thinks he's lived too long. Pathetic. Ivan never understood why he even tried. He couldn't die. Maybe it was just the pain and the minute long death that refueled him to keep going every day. Ivan enjoyed this pain, this madness, and the death. It was his drug. He still drank vodka like always, even more so than before. Maybe it was _just_ now getting to him. Maybe now it was finally having an effect on him. Maybe it was fueling the need for pain, for death.

Ivan's hand clinched around the handle of the gun in his hand. The cold metal made his gloveless hands feel numb. It made it easier each time. He sat in the cold room, which had blood splatters all over the wall. Why he chose his own room to do this in most of the time was a mystery to him. Maybe it was just easier and more comfortable. It's not like he only did this in his room. He did live alone after all...

Ivan's eyes fell closed. He lifted up the gun with one hand and pressed the barrel against his temple. He placed his finger on the trigger.

Then the doorbell rang. Ivan's eyes shot open. He slowly stood up and slipped his gun inside of his coat. He tightened his scarf around his neck before he went out of the room. Who would come to his house? The doorbell began to ring over and over again quickly and annoyingly. He took his time making it to the front door. He was ready for any kind of attack. Why would someone even try so far out here in this snow? They'd surely die. Even if they managed to get a hit on Ivan, he wouldn't die. He's learned that so many times.

The doorbell continued to ring until Ivan practically ripped the door open. He was completely shocked to see it was Alfred standing in front of him. The American was wrapped up in probably a few sweaters and coats and had a red scarf around his neck. His breathing was shaky from the cold and could be seen. His cheeks were flushed from the cold and he cradled a box in his arms. Ivan just stared at him with a look.

Alfred couldn't determine what the look was. Was it bored or was Ivan glaring at him? Alfred didn't think too much of it. He didn't want to stay out here longer than he needed. He took the present that was in his hands and held it out to the Russian. "Merry Christmas."

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**Merry Christmas! And This is only the beginning. I will be make this story, a new story, and add chapters to all my other ones!**


	2. Discarded Present

"Merry Christmas."

Ivan just continued to stare. Alfred came all the way to Russia and interrupted him just for Christmas? Ivan hated Alfred and Alfred hated Ivan, so why did he do this? Why would he want to come out in this cold? It was obvious he was suffering and for what?

Alfred seemed to notice the hesitation, and he pulled away lightly. He took one hand off the present and rubbed the back of his head. "I got presents for everyone, so I decided to get you one as well too. It's not like I care about you or anything, but even Commie's need something for Christmas." Ivan relaxed and an innocent smile formed on his lips. The tension faded away from the Russian.

Russia reached out and took the gift. "America is kind, da? Now you may leave." Russia insisted. He didn't care much for the gift or America's "kindness". He just wanted Alfred to leave. Ivan preferred to have his Christmas alone and in his own solitary.

Alfred looked at Ivan for a long time in confusion, but frowned. "Why the hurry? Want to get back to torturing puppies or something?" Alfred deserved the glare he received from the Russian, who happened to still be smiling.

"No, I am busy America. So if you don't mind…" Ivan stepped back from the door and slammed it into Alfred's face. Ivan turned away and began walking, but Alfred began banging frantically on his door. Ivan clinched his teeth and went back to the door, opening it violently again.

"You're not even going to invite me in? It's cold out here!" Alfred protested immediately when Ivan opened the door and ignored the dark demeanor pouring from the other. Ivan was about to argue about that, but the American pushed past him, going inside. Ivan barely had time to stop him, before the American had went over and made himself comfortable on the couch. Ivan sighed softly.

Alfred looked around the dark room. The only thing that lit it was the very small flame from the fire place. "Why is it so dark in here?" Alfred asked loudly and annoyingly as always. "Do you always celebrate Christmas so depressed?" Ivan blinked at when Alfred asked that. Did he actually care? Ivan shook it off. It was odd. Even for the American.

"It is none of your business America. May you please leave?" Ivan even said please. Maybe that would get Alfred to leave? ...No. Alfred just ignored him and continued to take off his scarf and a sweater.

"Do you have anything to drink?" Alfred asked looking at the Russian man. Ivan didn't get it at all! What did Alfred want? Why was he staying here? Why won't he leave?

Ivan sighed slightly and turned, leaving Alfred in the living room and went into the kitchen. Hopefully Alfred wouldn't do anything stupid.

Alfred glanced over at the table next to the door. He saw that Ivan had left the present there…unopened. He sighed and looked at the fire intently. Alfred didn't even know why he stayed here…maybe because he didn't want to be alone. It was obvious that Ivan was alone and wanted him to leave, but Alfred didn't want to.

The American jumped as a shot glass and bottle was slammed on the coffee table in front of him. Alfred eyed the drink for a moment in confusion.

"Vodka." Ivan stated as if he was answering the question in Alfred's head. He sat down next to him with a glass in his own head and down it down quickly.

Alfred picked up the drink and examined it for a second before taking a small sip of it. He made a face at the drink. It really was vodka. "It better not be poisoned." He muttered as he took another sip of the burning drink. He watched as Ivan reached over and grabbed the bottle, pouring more into his own shot. Alfred continued to barely sip his own drink. He watched as Ivan downed that one too. He if Ivan was still violent when he was drunk. He decided not to stop him. It wasn't before Alfred lost count of how much Ivan had drank. Five, ten, fifteen? Alfred had only one shot by then.

Ivan began to tilt to the side slightly then tilt to the other. He placed the glass on the table and used the same table to help him stand. "America should leave now, da?" He slurred, looking over to Alfred. He took a step toward him, but ended up falling forward.

Alfred blinked and rushed up quickly. He caught the Russian, barely. "Ivan, maybe you should go to bed…" Alfred offered as he slipped his arm around Ivan's waist and placed the Russian's arm around his shoulder to help him stand.

"America should leave, I'm busy." Ivan began to mutter to himself. He was in an obvious daze. Okay, at least he wasn't violent anymore. Alfred felt Ivan suddenly get heavier and felt like he was falling over. Alfred blinked and looked at Ivan's face….he passed out.

Alfred sighed softly and picked him up more and used his free hand to also help hold him it. It wasn't hard at all. He looked around before dragging the Russian towards his room. He had only been to it once, but he remembered where it was. Alfred went to the door and freed one of his hands away from Ivan so he could use it to open the door. After turning the door knob and pushing the door open all the way with his foot, he went inside and flipped the light switch on.

Alfred's eyes widened as soon as the light showed the room. What _exactly_ was Ivan busy with?

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**DUN DUN DUN**

_Eh I realized how many mistakes in chapter one. I fixed them on Microft but was too lazy to reupload it...again so yeah. Mistakes._

_And there are mistakes in this too, but I am exhausted so oh well xD_


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